


The Other Snow Job

by poppetawoppet



Category: Leverage
Genre: Hardison is kind of the damsel, Huddling For Warmth, Multi, Winter, and off screen violence, because I have yet to write that trope, more action that I thought, some mentions of drugging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8853253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppetawoppet/pseuds/poppetawoppet
Summary: While working on a job, Hardison is left unconscious out in the snow. Parker and Eliot take care of him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyjax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyjax/gifts).



> I took the prompt that involved hacking a natural disaster and somehow turned it into huddling for warmth and a whole lot more plot/dialogue then I intended. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> *the drug mentioned in the fic is completely made up.*  
> *I know very little about preventing frostbite*

“I thought you said it wasn’t going to snow, Hardison!” Eliot blew into his hands, and watched the skiers as they exited the lift and made their way back down the mountain.

“Hey, I can’t hack the weather, and you know it. Weather Service says we have about three hours to wrap up before visibility becomes an issue,” Hardison says.

“I’m about done here,” Parker says. “All the notes are gone, and I’ve installed all the viruses on their software that will kill anything related to the drug.”

“I’m still on surveillance at the lodge. They ain’t going nowhere.”

There’s a brief klaxon sound that indicates the trails are about to close. Eliot lets out a sigh over the comms.

“Ah, shit they’re getting up guys.”

“I’ve got the fourth just getting off the ski lift. He’s the last one, so I’ll track him and make sure he makes it back to the lodge,” Eliot says, patting the man’s shoulder and advising him to be careful going down.

“Looks like mine are just getting drinks from the bar. I’m gonna go wth the one headed to the bathroom, I’ve got my phone hooked into the—“

“Blah, blah, Hardison, just go pee already,” Eliot grins as he says it.

“You know, I don’t have to deal with this. I could retire to Patagonia and live like a king if I want. I could—“

The comms go silent.

“Not funny Hardison.”

There’s a grunt, some laughter, and a car door slamming shut.

“Dammit, Hardison!”

“Eliot?” Parker asks. “Was that—“

“Get out your phone Parker, and turn on the earbud tracker.”

“Done.”

Eliot stops his snowmobile and pulls out the phone. He presses the three buttons that reroute the information from the tracker he planted on the skier to a second earbud that he puts in.

“Okay here’s the plan.”

(It’s an unspoken rule, when things go to shit, Eliot is in charge. Parker and he made the agreement the first time one of their covers had been blown.)

“You track Hardison. Can you get to a snowmobile?”

“Easy.”

“Good. Follow him. I’m going to stay on their last guy, maybe get some information out of him. Let me know where and when you get to Hardison.”

Eliot forces his panic down, and starts the snowmobile again.

“Eliot. Eliot, they dumped him and he’s in his t-shirt and jeans and he’s not waking up.”

Eliot speeds up and stops in front of the mark.

“What the—“

Eliot jumps off the snowmobile and tackles him. He hits the mark hard enough to startle him, and handcuffs him to a small tree.

“Is—Is he—“

“He’s breathing , Eliot. I put my coat around him, but he’s gonna get frostbite. His jeans are all—“

“Parker.”

Her breath hitches over the comms, then steadies.

“Check the back of his head. Are there any tender spots?”

“No.”

“What about his eyes, can you open one for me?”

“They look kind of cloudy?”

“They drugged him. Don’t know with what yet. Can you get him back to our cabin?”

“Yeah. I can probably drape him over the snowmobile, but I’m gonna have to go slow.”

Eliot swallows.

“Okay. When you get to the cabin, start a hot bath, but don’t put him in right away. Go as fast as you can, even wet jeans is better protection than nothing.”

“Eliot. Be safe.”

“I will.”

Eliot looks over at the mark, who has come out of his brief daze. He smiles, and the mark cringes.

“Now I’m gonna ask you a question, and you are gonna answer it.”

*

Parker resists the urge to go any faster. The snowmobile is hard enough to handle with one hand holding Hardison across her lap without adding dangerous speeds. Their cabin is on the outer edge of the ski lodge, far enough away that no one would notice them sharing it.

(It takes forever to get there. It’s only fifteen minutes.)

She gets the front door open, and manages to fireman carry Hardison into the living area. She covers him with a blanket and starts the bath. She strips her boots and hats and gloves and throws them in the coat closet.

“I’m here. Running the bath. Should I start a fire?”

There’s a grunt, and what sounds like a door opening.

“Yeah. Is Hardison covered up for right now?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I got him into the living area and in a chair.”

“Good. Once the fire is going and the bath is full, start stripping him. I should be there by then.”

“What are you—“

“I’ll tell you when I get there. They gave him a low dose of fentacozate. He’ll wake up eventually, so I’m more worried about exposure right now.”

“Okay.”

She builds the fire, stops the water, and grabs all the blankets she can find and piles them onto the pull-out couch in front of the fire. She pulls the bed out.. She’s peeling off Hardison’s socks when Eliot walks in.

She turns and looks at him. There’s a few scratches on his face, and blood on his jacket.

“I took a shortcut.”

She smiles, because he’s answered her question she didn’t even ask.

“I grabbed blankets, too.”

Eliot nods, and strips off his jacket, and throws it on top of Parker’s stuff. He kneels next to Hardison, peering in his eyes, and checking his head.

“I thought you said—“

“I know. I just—“

Parker nods and puts her hand over Eliot’s.

“Okay. I’m going to get him in the tub. He’ll need dry clothes.”

She nods and goes into the bedroom. She grabs clothes for Hardison and herself and detours into Eliot’s room for his. She stops at the bathroom door. Eliot is climbing into the tub, supporting Hardison with his body. They are both in just their underwear.

“Hey,” Eliot says.

“Hey. I got you clothes too.”

They share another look. They do that a lot. They think in the same terms. Hardison calls them drift compatible, whatever that means.

Parker tilts her head and looks at the cut on Eliot’s cheek.

“That’s going to need stitches.”

He nods. She gets out the first aid kit, and gently wipes his cheek. His eyes are closed, and she respects the trust he is giving her by making slow sure movements.

“What happened to Gregson?” She pulls the thread taut and cuts it.

“Dumped him at the lodge in handcuffs. He was yelling his confession for anyone to hear just to get away from me.”

“Was he going to need stitches?”

“Probably a cast too.”

“Good.”

Eliot opens his eyes and looks at her. She places a couple of band-aids over the stitches, and kisses it lightly.

He clears his throat.

“When we get out, we’re going to rub him dry to make sure he’s got blood flow to all his fingers and toes and stuff. Then we’ll get him in that bed and covered up.”

She nods. She helps lift Hardison out of the tub, and doesn’t look away when Eliot stands up. They rub him dry. Eliot looks away while she dresses him, even though she knows he doesn’t want to.

(There isn’t a them. Not yet, even though there should be. She and Hardison whisper about it late at night. Eliot tells her in more silent ways.)

Eliot puts Hardison on the bed.

“Well, I, uh—“

Parker looks at him. “Shouldn’t we keep him warm until he wakes up? Just in case?”

Eliot nods once. She pats the side of the bed she isn’t sitting on, and Eliot climbs in. They arrange the blankets over themselves.

She reaches across Hardison and takes his hand. He shifts so their hands meet in the middle. She smiles and leans her head into Hardison’s shoulder.

****

Hardison blinks. He remembers a sharp jab in his neck, and then nothing else. He’s in the pull-out bed, in his pajamas. Parker is curled up against him, using his shoulder as a pillow. Eliot is —

Eliot is on the other, eyes closed but not sleeping. It’s pretty cozy in the bed, but Eliot probably already knows that Hardison is awake by now. So he turns and looks at Parker again, kissing her lightly.

Her eyes flutter open and she smiles.

“Hey babe,” he says.

“Hey back.”

Eliot has vacated the bed at this point, and is starting up the coffee pot. He comes back to the bed and sits on the edge.

“Hey,” Hardison says again.

(He can’t quite read Eliot’s expression. It’s not a ‘I don’t want to share my feelings’ scowl, but it’s not a ‘Dammit Hardison’ frown either. Parker laughs softly, which must mean it’s a good face.)

“Hey.” Eliot looks at Parker, then back to Hardison.

Eliot grabs Hardison’s shirt and kisses him. Parker giggles.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Eliot breathes out as they part.

“Um.”

“I ain’t no prince, and you sure as hell ain’t a damsel. Don’t make us rescue you again.”

Hardison grins. “I’ll do my best, but can we get back to the park where I got the fairytale kiss?”

Eliot cups his cheek, and kisses him again, slow, soft, and gentle. When he pulls away, Hardison is slightly dizzy.

“What did you two talk about when I was out? Or is this just out of the blue?”

Parker shifts forward in the bed. “I asked him to sleep with us. For warmth of course. Can I be the princess now?”

“Sure darlin’, “ Eliot says, and Hardison watches greedily while they kiss.

Hardison clears his throat. They really should talk this out. Set some boundaries.

“So just how much snow did we get?” Hardison looks towards the window.

“Enough to be snowed in a few days. Electricity works, but the internet is shit,” Eliot says.

Hardison looks at him, then Parker. Parker smiles, and Hardison knows exactly what’s on her mind.

“Well,” Hardison says. “I’m pretty sure we can find ways to entertain each other, don’t you?”

Eliot blinks, and laughs.

“Oh I’m sure we can.”


End file.
